


the prize of sugar

by Kt_fairy



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Smut, gratuitous dessert, misuse of naval property
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kt_fairy/pseuds/Kt_fairy
Summary: A young marine private had come to a halt at the foot of the ladder not five paces from Henry, blinking at him in bewilderment. Henry did his best to put on an air of nonchalance, hoping to make this tableau seem as it it were perfectly commonplace; which was rather difficult when he had one stockinged foot just touching the deck while his other leg hung in the air on the other side of the Quartermasters’ counter, all while he clutched a tankard of sugar to his chest.ORDundy gets so caught up in the thought of pudding he forgets shagging exists
Relationships: Lt Henry T.D. Le Vesconte/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Comments: 22
Kudos: 40





	the prize of sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gwerfel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwerfel/gifts).



> As requested by my salty sea dog, as a late Frieniversary gift, and a show of my esteem. I'm very grateful that we're both chained to this boat going nowhere.

It was always dashed dark down on the orlop, with only those lamps left burning in the gunroom to give one enough light to peer by as one dodged cats, rats, and beams. Or, in this unfortunate instance, to light up one Midshipman Le Vesconte as he made his escape from the stores. 

A young marine private had come to a halt at the foot of the ladder not five paces from Henry, blinking at him in bewilderment. Henry did his best to put on an air of nonchalance, hoping to make this _tableau_ seem as it it were perfectly commonplace; which was rather difficult when he had one stockinged foot just touching the deck while his other leg hung in the air on the other side of the Quartermasters’ counter, all while he clutched a tankard of sugar to his chest.

“Good morning,” the marine said after a cautious pause, broad shoulders straightening in his smart red coat that was splattered with dark drops of rain.

“A good morning to you, private Tozer,” Henry said, timing his movement with the roll of the ship as he levered himself onto the right side of the deck and into his shoes. “Just come down from duty, have you?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Good, good,” Henry smiled, felt ridiculous, and looked at the sugar in his hands. “Now. I dare say you think you have come across an act of theft.”

“I could not say,” the private said diplomatically, peering into the shadows of the stores as if he expected to see an accomplice. 

“Which would not be wrong. But it is only a little amount, and we are so close to home,” Henry looked about and came a step closer, which brought the marine's attention back to him. “I have had it in mind to make a pudding, you see, as I acquired some raisins when we anchored in Lisbon a few weeks past. But in a full ship, everyone should want their part of it - which ain’t the thing. One should be invited to share a fellows pudding. So as we are but a meagre crew this day, I thought I better get to it.”

The marine nodded, lips pressed tightly together in what might have been displeasure, or might have been concealed amusement, Henry could not tell “... sir.”

“Well -” Henry began, then fell silent, feeling himself wilt a little under the man’s direct gaze. “I suppose you might tell a lieutenant now, which it would be your duty. Keeping order is also keeping Midshipmen out of the stores, I wager.”

“I… would not think it my place,” the marine said, eyes flicking around the deserted orlop before moving slowly over Henry’s person, finally landing on the tankard of sugar with a curious look.

“Oh!” Henry breathed. “If you would like to be invited to share in the pudding…”

The marine came away from the ladder, standing close enough that Henry could feel his warmth. “I would not have you think my silence need be bought.”

“Nonsense,” Henry beamed, patting the marine on the arm. “You might be able to help me get it made, if you like.”

The private considered Henry, looking around the orlop once more before asking in an undertone, "what would you have me do?”

* ***** *

Being sent to collect eggs only caused further bewilderment to private Tozer, which was understandable. Henry doubted that such a fine figure of a marine had ever been sent running off on so menial a task - and by a midshipman at that! 

He must be in want of something to do, Henry supposed as he clattered about in the empty galley, seeing as _Britannia_ was half abandoned; most of the crew having gone ashore on one of the Canaries to stretch legs and collect fresh foods and the like. 

There was also the matter of the half bottle of sherry Henry had brought up from the gunroom and was now liberally sharing. He would not fault the man for humouring Henry in exchange for a drink.

"I feel as if we should sympathise with one another, being amongst the poor unfortunates left behind," Henry said, chattering away to fill up the not quite silence of a ship at anchor as he beat all the eggs and flour and co. together in a bowl. “Yet the rain on your coat tells me that we might just be the lucky ones.”

"Squall came up from the sou’west," Tozer said from where he was leaning against the door frame with the sherry bottle dangling from his tanned fingers, watching Henry with a scowling sort of fascination. 

“Fortunate it was not a storm, eh?” Henry tapped the fork gently on the side of his china bowl, picking it up carefully by the rim to set it down into the shallow tray of water he had heated on the galley stove, carefully covering the whole thing with a cloth. “Have you ever been in an Atlantic gale?”

“Once or twice,” Tozer lifted a shoulder in a laconic shrug and held the bottle out to Henry.  
  


“Frightful things, aren’t they?” Henry said as he perched his backside on the worktop, feet crossed at the ankles. “Old Testament weather,” Henry took a sip of the sweet sherry, and coughed. “Makes one think the topmen should get a shilling more for their trouble.”

“Or a fine pudding,” the marine said carefully, chancing a handsome smile when Henry chuckled.

“Ah, then they might not get up the rigging, and what shall become of us," Henry dipped his head towards the private in the manner of a kindly school ma’am, while swinging the bottle towards him like a rake. “Now. You must tell no-one of my proficiency in puddings, or we might be renamed _HMS Portly_.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” Tozer nodded, eyes glinting as he lifted the bottle to his lips. "Doubt they'd believe it was cookin’ we were about, anyway.”  
  


Henry made to reply, then closed his mouth, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck. “I - well… ” he began, regaining control of himself when he saw the circumspect look Tozer was giving him. 

“I am sorry if I overstepped, sir.”

“No, no. Quite alright,” Henry waved away the apology, for he had merely been surprised, and had done enough carousing in his time to not be shocked by such a comment. 

There were few things beyond loyalty to King, country, and ship that could be said to be parity of experience between marines and mids; but being perceived to submit willingly to a certain sort of attention (from men) (and not always for coin) was one of them.

Henry was then struck by the thought of how his exiting Mr Briar’s stores with the prize of sugar might appear. He held out his hand for the sherry and the marine pushed off of the door frame, stepping closer in order to pass it to him.

He might not be worth much more than half a tankard of sugar, Henry thought as he swigged at the sherry, but he would have demanded a great deal more for such a thing. It never did do to under-sell oneself.

Tozer had not retreated back to the door when Henry glanced over at him. There was a strange moment where they stared at one another, and just as the private looked as if he were about to apologise again, Henry realised what a naïve fool he was being. Behaving as if he were fresh out of port! A wide eyed innocent who had no clue as to their actions! and so on and so forth.

"Oh," Henry uttered, and clunked the bottle of sherry down next to him.

It would make him no less of a man to carry on as if he had never recognised the implication threaded through their conversation on the orlop (in some circles they might say it would make him more of a man, but those were no doubt landsmen and therefore had some rather stuffy views upon the world). However, he found himself in the middle of some sordid construct; a filthy tale, where he was all but alone on a fine ship with a belly full of sherry, and a rather fetching marine who had liked the look of Henry enough to agree to get up to something _against the Articles_ with him.

At least, he had until Henry had sent him to collect eggs from the ship’s hens as if he were a steward! Goodness, only Lord Byron might have treated a paramour in such a manner and kept their interest.

The polished heels of Henry's shoes clicked against the deck as he set his feet apart, and tilted his head towards Tozer. His countenance had changed, as if he had seen the fog clear from Henry's understanding, and there was a crinkle of amusement around his mouth that was really rather charming.

“How long does that have to go?” he asked, nodding towards the stove.

“Twen - “ Henry pulled out his pocket watch to double check, and started when the marine stepped smartly between his legs. A thick heat swooped down through Henry’s stomach as he met Tozer's eyes, seeing the intent in them clear as day now he knew to look for it. “Twenty minutes, I’d say.” 

“Plenty of time then, if you’re amenable?”

Henry smiled. He was never lacking in boldness once he knew the course he was going to take, and the warmth of the sherry in his belly only made it easier for the weight of desire to settle there alongside it. “Yes,” he said, reaching out to touch the red wool of the marine's jacket, tugging him closer.

He ran his hand over the shape of private Tozer's figure, and by the time his hand had come to rest on the marine’s hip, Henry was being kissed. It was a gallantry that was not normally observed in these sorts of things, which was rather a shame as Henry had always been rather fond of stealing the odd kiss or two. Even if the other's mouth tasted of tobacco and sherry, their lips chapped by salt.

Henry set his knees further apart so the marine could move closer, tangling his fingers through the gaps between the polished buttons of his jacket as strong palms smoothed up inside of Henry’s thighs. 

The mix of youthful exuberance and the thrill of where they were indulging in this had Henry stiffening before the marine had found his cock. He gasped when fingers moulded to his prick through his breeches, squeezing not so gently while Henry set about undoing buttons. Smooth brass buttons at the bottom of the smart red coat, flat pewter buttons on the fall of the private’s neat uniform trousers that he reached in to, searching out the heft of Tozer's cock through the bunched tails of his shirt.

It had been said that Henry had a tendency to think with his mouth. As he pulled the marine to hardness, while inroads were made into his own breeches, he found himself thinking with it now. Having to swallow at the thought of how the weight would feel against his tongue. 

"Shall we turn about?" Henry murmured against the man's weather worn cheek, and there followed some confusion as to what Henry had meant by that; Tozer casting a doubtful look at the iron stove as Henry stood, and there being a bit of a twirl when Henry tried to encourage Tozer to take his place, perching on the worktop. 

It was all a bit haphazard, but then most liaisons tended to be. Tozer did not mind, as well he should not - he was lucky the galley was impeccably clean, otherwise Henry would not have risked staining his white trousers by kneeling for anything short of the captain’s orders.

The marine adjusted his legs on either side of Henry as he took him into his mouth. He uttered an oath under his breath as he gripped Henry's shoulders, before sliding fingers into Henry’s hair, encouraged Henry into a rhythm which he easily met; squeezing the base of the marine’s fine prick with every slide of his lips, gasps muffled and half gurgled whenever the private tugged gently at his hair.

He had to pull back to gasp in a breath, swallowing all the spit in his mouth and glancing up at Tozer as he continued to work his prick with his hand. The hand not in Henry’s hair was gripping the edge of the worktop tightly, his tanned face flushed and furtive as he looked between Henry and around the open galley, lips pink and well bitten.

Henry made sure to catch his eye, feeling rather cocky as he shot him a smile before putting his lips about him again. Tozer made a soft little sound and Henry grasped a handful of his trousers, doubling his efforts as he sensed the marine was close. He used tight twists of his fist and laves of his tongue to pull him closer and closer to the edge, and, endeavouring to swallow every bit of the marine’s sharp, briny taste as he brought him - gasping - to his end.

“ _Christ_ ,” Tozer panted, untangling his fingers from Henry’s hair as sagging backwards. His eyes were fixed on him while Henry tucked the private's cock away and wiped his mouth, then his hand, with his handkerchief, before tidying it back into his pocket. 

“Aren’t you glad you came back with those eggs, eh?”

The marine gazed at him a moment, then laughed. “I won’t argue with that,” he huffed, giving Henry a hand to help him to his feet. 

He offered him the sherry, and Henry tilted it towards him in a toast before swilling the taste of the other man’s spend from his tongue.

Tozer was watching him still, face ruddy and eyes bright. He glanced down at where Henry was pressing rather insistently against the front of his breeches, then slipped down onto his knees.

Henry sighed when his prick was freed, gasping when a hot mouth wrapped about him. He took a swig of sherry as he braced a hand on the edge of the worktop, enjoying the way warmth sang up and down his spine and coiled languidly in his abdomen as private Tozer showed him un-fussy, single minded attentions. He meant to bring Henry off quickly, and he did not resist it; gripping the bottle tight and swallowing down a moan as he spilled on the man’s tongue, and was swallowed down in turn.

* ***** *

"Now," Henry announced, leaning his elbows on the capstan, the steam from the pudding rising into the air before him. "I should not like you to think my earlier dense understanding was any reflection on you."

"Being sent for eggs was a new one," Tozer muttered as he let a spoonful of pudding cool a moment, the light from the open gunport catching the blonde in his hair. "I won’t forget it in a hurry."

“Well, I shan’t either,” Henry said, scraping down the sides of the bowl to get the best well cooked, crispy pieces. “It is a fine pudding.”

Tozer nodded, “I commend it,” he paused, a look passing over his face that made it clear he was going to be cheeky. “And your cunning skills.”

Henry snorted, and licked the back of his spoon clean. “I think it was a _close_ collaboration on that front, eh.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have bothered to read this, thank you!


End file.
